


The Letter Home

by along_those_lines



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, DJWifi, F/M, Slow Burn, WWII AU, but not really slow burn, except ladybug and chat noir don't exist, i'll probably add more characters later, no tikki or plagg either, they're just nicknames/legacies they leave
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 08:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12008754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/along_those_lines/pseuds/along_those_lines
Summary: Germany had attacked. It had been less than twenty years since the Great War had ended, and here Germany was, starting another one. No one wanted to deal with a second world war, but it appeared that they would have to.In France, many were still unconcerned about Germany, thinking that they would never be foolish enough to attack France. "We showed them during the Great War," people would say. "They know better than to attack us." They all soon found out how wrong they were.Marinette is an army nurse with a stubborn disposition and amazing luck in the hospital.Adrien is a French officer who only wants to survive long enough to make it back home.When they meet, sparks fly. But will they both be able to survive long enough to see each other again?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone,
> 
> Please feel free to leave positive feedback and constructive criticism. And make sure to give Kudos if you enjoyed it.
> 
> I am a very slow writer. I am warning you now. I am a college student who has very little time to write, so please be patient.
> 
> Last but not least, while I will try to keep this story as PG as possible, it does take place during a war. There will not be any sexual content, other than kissing, but there may be some description of violence and war time. If you are sensitive to these things, please do not read. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and enjoy. 
> 
> \- along_those_lines

Chaos. That was the best word to describe it. Looking back on her time as a nurse in the French military, chaos was the thing that Marinette remembered most. Being a nurse wasn’t easy in the slightest, although there were several recruits who made is sound as such. That was before they were screaming on a cot in front of her, begging her to save their life, to take away their pain. It was chaos. Blood and bodies and mud and the sound of screams and the smell of urine. No one truly recovers from that. Their wounds may heal, but never their minds. Marinette was the best nurse on the front, some even called her a lucky charm, as she rarely ever lost men. Marinette herself knew that this was partly because she was scrupulous in those that received care. She wanted to save as many lives as possible, but she did not waste time on patients that she knew off the bat would not come back from this.

Marinette had been studying medicine before the war, and she was one of the few female medical student admitted into the University of Paris. However, her education was cut short by the declaration of war. She and her college roommate Alya had joined the military together, along with Alya’s husband Nino, who had gone straight into the armed forces and was quickly promoted to a ranking officer. Marinette too had quickly risen through the ranks of nurses, as she was one of the few volunteers with any real medical experience. She was the captain of the guard among the medical staff, and they all adored her; Marinette’s word was law. Despite her scrutiny regarding which patients she worked on, she never gave up on a patient. She would assign newer, less-experienced nurses to the milder cases, and stuck herself and her higher ups on the less fortunate soldiers. Many died, but due to their care, many lives were saved. Yet still, it was chaos.

In the moment, however, the chaos wasn’t evident. Marinette knew exactly what to do, and ignored her sensory functions, letting her intuition work. It had been in one of those moments that she had first met him. One of the grisliest battles yet of the war in late September of 1939, and Marinette and her nursing corps were at the front lines. Bombs sounded in the distance as more and more men were carried into the makeshift clinic. Some were screaming and crying, some were completely unresponsive, some were already dead. Marinette had Alya placed at the door, giving bullet speed assessments, and equally quick assignments. Meanwhile, Marinette scurried from cot to cot, stabilizing each patient she passed, doing whatever she could to bring each man a little further from the brink of death.

She became so far entranced in her work that Marinette had no time to even wipe her face. She became so covered in mud and the blood of dying men that her white nurse’s uniform would never come back to its former color, instead permanently stained black and red. It had been days since she slept more than an hour or two, even longer since she had seen the sun. She hadn’t eaten in hours, nor had she relieved herself since then.

Days into the horrors of the battle, when Marinette had almost forgotten any color but red, she heard a new kind of scream coming from the doorway of the clinic. This wasn’t a scream of pain, but instead a scream of despair. The most noticeable difference between this scream and the ones that plagued her when she slept, was that it wasn’t coming from a soldier, but from a nurse.

Marinette snapped her head towards the doorway, where she saw a stricken Alya, staring ahead at whatever was coming through the door before the woman bolted out the door and out of Marinette’s sight. Marinette didn’t even have time to consider what might be troubling her friend, as she returned her attentions to the dying man in front of her.

However, she didn’t have to wait long before she discovered the source of Alya’s outburst, as the empty cot beside her was quickly filled by a dark-skinned man with a sizable bullet wound in his thigh; Alya weeping beside him. Marinette immediately recognized the man.

She called another nurse over to attend the man she had been working on, before rushing over to the other side of the bed and whispering, “Nino.” Alya wept harder, at Marinette’s confirmation that he was, in fact, badly injured. Nino lay silent on the bed, responsive, and gripping his wife’s hand, trying to comfort her as best he could by refraining from screaming. Marinette immediately began working, giving encouraging words with confidence as she mentally assessed her friend’s condition. As far as she could see, he had been shot in the leg, but there was no other injury. He was dirty almost beyond recognition and covered in the evidence of war, but otherwise, he was fine.

“You’re going to be fine, Nino, but I have to get the bullet out. This is going to hurt.” As smoothly as possible, Marinette dug her less-than-sterile oversized tweezers into Nino’s thigh, firmly holding his leg down as she quickly found the bullet and yanked it out of his leg. Nino cried out, throwing Alya into hysterics, before he clamped down on his bottom lip, silencing his own cries. Marinette quickly cleaned and stitched the wound, before bandaging it tightly. She checked that Nino was still responsive, before turning back to her spectators.

“Alya, I know you want to be here with Nino, but he’s stable. I promise I’ll keep an eye on him, but I really need you back out at the front.” Alya shakily nodded, before leaning over, placing a chaste kiss on Nino’s forehead, and returning to her station. It was then that Marinette noticed the other man. Thinking back, she knew that he must have been the one to bring Nino in. She had assumed he’d left, but here he was, staring at her expectantly as if he was waiting for her to give him an assignment. She took half a second to take him in. He was tall, taller than her by several inches, with striking blond hair which was matted and covered in soot, and eyes so green she could practically see the meadow outside her family home.

“You.” She pointed at him, even though it appeared that he would have followed her regardless of whether or not she had specified that he was the one she was speaking to, “Follow me.” He jolted into action, having to take large steps to keep up with the purposeful woman.

Adrien knew that this was the least convenient time possible to fall in love, but the romantic in him knew that there was no stopping it now. The moment that nurse had walked up to Nino’s bedside, he felt his heart flip-flop within his rib cage, and at that moment, Nino and his weeping wife hardly even existed, much less the still raging battle outside, and all of his own injured men in that very building. She was stunning. Her midnight black, almost blue hair gave him a reason to wish for nightfall, even in its current state of hastily thrown into ratty, matted pigtails. In contrast, her bright blue eyes reminded him of sunshine, as counterintuitive as that sounded. They gave him a sense of warmth, and a will to live that he guessed translated well to all the other dying men in the hall. When she finally acknowledged him after fixing Nino, his breathing stuttered, and he mentally cursed himself for the strong reaction. However, she didn’t seem to notice, and instead forcibly enlisted him into her service. For the next few hours, he remained by her side, holding down struggling men as she cleaned them up, helping her carry newly injured men to recently emptied bunks. It startled him how well they worked together, completely in sync with the other as they cared for the wounded men.

As day drew into night, Adrien knew that he should return to his post, and what troops remained of his squadron. So, he reluctantly tried to catch the attention of the nurse whose name he had yet to learn. “Miss…” he started, but before he had barely gotten a word out, she was gone, on to the next patient. As he stood there, debating with himself on whether or not he should just leave, she looked up expectantly, waiting for him to come help her with the next patient. He solemnly shook his head, and her face visibly wilted. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I really need to get back to my troops. They need me.”

Marinette’s eyes drifted down to his chest, where the insignia of a commander gleamed on his soiled uniform, somehow having been spared of the horrors of battle. She understood that he needed to go, that there were others that needed him more than her, but she hated to have him leave. She had never worked so well with anyone, not even Alya, and she regretted to lose that companionship so soon. She nodded, “I relieve you of service, commander.” She joked, allowing a hint of a smile to light her face.

Adrien was caught off guard by her comment, only to be utterly blown away when the smallest of smiles crept onto her face. If he thought she was beautiful before, there was no word in existence for what he thought of her now. His heart fluttered again, and he came to the conclusion that if he didn’t get some distance from this girl, his heart would either stop completely from exhaustion or jump out of his chest and run to her. He felt ready to do neither, so instead, he cheekily bowed and turned away from her towards the entrance to the clinic.

Marinette watched him go, and couldn’t help but feel that she should have offered some sort of information, like a name, or where to find her, because all of the sudden she didn’t know if she could bear never seeing the young officer again. She allowed herself a small moment of indulgence, as she reminisced about her few moments with him, wishing that she had a name.

Jolting herself away from her scattered thoughts, she returned to her work.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the battle is over, Adrien seeks out the beautiful nurse again, hoping for a name if nothing else.

Thirteen days. It had been thirteen days since Adrien had last seen the beautiful nurse. However, it was more accurate to count in hours, as Adrien’s sleep schedule had been severely messed up by the battle. Now that it was over, Adrien wanted nothing more than to jump into a bed and sleep the days away until he was needed. Well, almost nothing. If he slept now, he would forever lose his chance to find the girl, to learn her name, to get to know her. There were simply too many people in the French army for fate to place her in his path again. 

And so, Adrien set off towards the clinic where he had met her. It was quite the long walk, as the battle had progressed away from the makeshift hospital, but not so far that he was able to talk himself out of seeking her out. However, his exhaustion did try to dissuade him. He thought about how busy she would be, in the after effects of the battle and how many men were injured. He thought about how she might not want to see him, or that she possibly blamed him for Nino getting hurt. He thought of every possible situation in which she might turn him down or shut him out, but none could overpower the picture of her smile.

As he walked into the hospital, he immediately became aware of how much harder these women worked than any of the soldiers, and how much more of an impact their work made. Nurses were scrambling to and fro, carrying needles, syringes, pliers, and various other medical equipment. There was an obvious lack of room, as wounded men were laid out on the floor or in the middle of established walkways in order to accommodate the sheer number of them. Despite how put together a majority of the nurses seemed, the group as a whole was vastly unprepared for the demand of their services. Alya was still stationed at the door, and when Adrien entered, completely unharmed and not carrying another injured man, she gave him a quizzical look, before sending him in to help. 

He was immediately swept up in the energy of the place. Despite his goal to find his mysterious nurse, he simply couldn’t deny the cries of the dying. And so, he stepped in wherever he saw a need. Hours passed, and the longer he worked to keep men alive, the more he felt the life being sucked out of him until he eventually collapsed into a lonely chair at the side of Nino’s cot, which he assumed was normally reserved for Alya. Nino was awake, and laughed quietly at Adrien, “Dude, you look like you took a beating.”

Adrien groaned, “How do they do it, Nino. I’ve only been helping in here for a couple of hours and I’m physically and mentally drained. They’ve been here for days. Weeks even.”

Nino laughed again, before taking on a sympathetic look, “Honestly, most of them have looked past the fact that they’re working on people. They have to in order to keep their sanity. You already met the exception, though. I don’t know how she does it.”

“The exception?” Adrien asked. 

“Yeah, dude. Around here they’ve started calling her ‘Ladybug,’ but I think you should get her name from her. She’s over there.” Nino pointed down the hallway, to where the blue-eyed beauty was standing, talking to several other nurses. From what Adrien could see, it looked like she hadn’t slept, showered, or changed since Adrien had last seen her two weeks ago. That didn’t make her any less beautiful though. Almost in a trance, Adrien wished Nino a speedy recovery and started making his way towards her. 

Marinette had had a very long thirteen days. Not only had her workload increased as the battle progressed, but she now had a handsome young soldier to worry over, something that she had deliberately avoided thus far in the war. And she didn’t even know his name. Her anxiety was slowly killing her, and what little time she was allotted for sleep, she usually spent praying over Nino and the young soldier until she passed out in exhaustion, only to be woken in far too little time for an emergency, or an unexpected swell in wounded men. But now that the battle was over, most of the injured had already made their way in and out of her care, meaning that she was almost done. She only had to make it a few more hours before she could collapse on the nearest bed and sleep her days away after a long shower.  
She was hastily giving directions to another nurse when her eyes caught a tall figure moving towards the group. Most of the nurses were around her height, and most of the men were bed ridden, so when she turned to examine the movement, she was incredibly surprised to find the young officer walking towards her, staring right at her. Her speech halted. Luckily, her fellow nurse took the hint and went to seek help elsewhere. 

He stopped in front of her, before giving a mock salute at attention, and saying, “Reporting for duty, Ma’am.” with such a self-satisfied smirk that she knew he had been working on that one for days. She smiled. 

“It’s good to see you again, Commander.” She said, before beckoning him to follow her as she cared for her charges. They worked side by side for several more hours, and Adrien no longer felt the wear and tear of the hospital, instead reveling in her presence. 

Finally, after what seemed like both forever and only a few moments, Marinette was approached by one of her fellow nurses, a peculiarly short girl with equally short, blonde hair, “Go, Mari. Get some rest. You deserve it.”

Marinette shook her head, “Not yet, I still need to check on…”

“Don’t fight me on this. You’re no use to these men in your condition. You need to get some rest.”

Reluctantly, she sighed, “Alright, Rose. I’ll go. Make sure to check on that one redheaded soldier for me, he was in pretty bad shape when he came in here.”

Adrien had been not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation, “So,” he tried to interject slyly, “Your name is Mari?” he asked, directing his attention at the bluenette.

She smiled slightly, “Marinette, actually, but my friends do call me Mari, yes.”

He smiled back at her, “That’s a beautiful name, I’m Adrien.” He stuck out his hand for her to shake it. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Adrien.” She said cheerfully, taking his hand and shaking it. 

They caught each other’s eyes, and suddenly, they were acutely aware of how lucky they were to both be alive, and to have had the opportunity to meet again, after weeks of bombings and bloodshed. Suddenly, they felt that they knew each other much better than a few hours of working side by side should allow. 

Marinette made the first move, but Adrien gladly followed through as Marinette brought herself in for a hug. They both took a deep breath, breathing each other in, before they gradually realized that this should be awkward. 

The realization that a hug that lasted longer than it didn’t should have been awkward inevitably made it awkward, and Marinette pulled back first, her cheeks painted red. 

“I’m going to find a place to sleep, would you walk with me?” she asked politely, not wanting to let him out of her sight despite her embarrassment. 

“Of course… Ladybug.” 

She visibly turned red, “You heard about that, huh?”

“Heard about it, yes. Gotten an explanation for it, no.” He hinted, hoping to get a reason, but knowing that seeing her blush had been enough of a reward for using the nickname. 

She sighed, even though she was smiling, “I’ll explain while we walk.” 

Adrien chuckled as she turned and walked out of the building, eagerly following behind her. 

“A good portion of it has to do with this.” She said, motioning to her uniform which was stained beyond recognition. Adrien took a good look at it, fully noticing it for the first time. It was covered in grit and grime, a montage of grisly colors; but the two that stood out most were red and black. He was surprised that it really did look somewhat like a ladybug’s pattern. “They said that I looked like a ladybug, what with the red and black spots. But it also has to do with me being quote-unquote ‘Lucky.’” She made air-quotes to emphasize that she herself didn’t believe it was so, “A lot of the men had already taken to calling me their lucky charm, so the name stuck.” She looked up at him, waiting for his response, and he was struck again by the blue of her eyes. 

“Were you already being called Ladybug when I was here last?”

She shook her head, looking down, “No, not yet. It really started about a week ago, maybe before. But it finally got around to me that I was being called Ladybug about a week ago.”

“Well I, for one, would love to have a nickname as cool as that.”

She looked embarrassed, as if she didn’t want to talk about herself anymore, or the good deeds that she had accomplished. As if she didn’t want to talk about the events that went down inside the hospital. Adrien understood. He felt the same way about the battlefield. 

He decided to change the subject, “So, where are you from, Marinette?”

She seemed grateful for his intuitiveness as she smiled up at him, “Born and raised in Paris. I was in the middle of University there when the war interrupted.”

“Really? Me too! Minus the University part, I graduated just before joining the military last year.”

She beamed, “That’s incredible!” She paused, wanting to add something along the lines of ‘Maybe we could see each other after the war,’ but not wanting to push her luck any farther than she already had. With that thought, however, her resolve solidified to spend as long as possible with Adrien. 

They continued talking, learning random things about the other; such as Marinette’s love for fashion, and Adrien’s love for baked goods. They were both smiling and laughing more than they had in a very long time, long before even the war started. 

When they finally reached a small village where many off-duty soldiers were taking up shop, resting and showering, preparing themselves mentally and physically for the next battle, Adrien and Marinette realized that they weren’t yet ready to part ways. Adrien desperately wanted to ask her if she wanted to share a room, just so that he wouldn’t have to let her out of his sight, but he had just met this woman. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. Luckily for him, Marinette made the first move. 

“I’ll go see if I can get us a room somewhere, preferably in a house with a shower.” She was so nonchalant about it, walking away and approaching a tall, dark-haired nurse, with hair that nearly covered her violet eyes. Adrien was beet red, glad that Marinette wasn’t facing him to see his embarrassment. He watched as Marinette’s nursing friend pointed towards a large house on the side of the road, and Marinette nodded, before returning to Adrien. 

“Juleka says that there’s still plenty of room in that house over there and that there’s even a washing machine for our clothes.” She said, motioning towards her soiled dress and his equally mud-caked uniform.

“That sounds great, I could really use a fresh set of clothes.” He smiled, still slightly red from her earlier statement.

They walked towards the house and were met immediately by the family that lived there. They were very generous, helping them through the process of showering, washing their clothes, and finding an unused blanket in the already crowded home. They were even so kind as to lend the two a set of clothes to wear while they waited for their own to be cleaned. 

When they were finally clean and settled on their neighboring blankets in the corner of the living room, they laid down facing each other. Their eyelids grew increasingly heavy, as did their conversation.  
“I was worried about you,” Adrien spoke softly so as not to disrupt the small privacy bubble they had created for themselves, “I was worried that you would get hurt during the battle, and I couldn’t have been there to protect you.”

Marinette’s eyes gleamed, making Adrien’s heart stutter again, before answering in an equally low voice, “And you think I wasn’t worried about you? I had even more reason to be, with you out on the front lines.” Blushing slightly, she reached out and took his hand in hers, “Besides,” she started, not looking him in the eye, instead focusing on their joined hands, “even if you had been there, there wouldn’t be much even a brave strong soldier such as yourself could do if a bomb were to have hit the hospital.” 

He entwined their fingers, almost missing her intake of breath, before bringing her hand to his mouth and gently kissing the back of it, “Then it would have been an honor to die beside you, Mi’lady.” She blushed scarlet, finally snapping her eyes up to his. He smiled at her, feeling his own blush rise, “Now get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” It wasn’t long before they were both fast asleep, hands still entwined between them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that they've found each other again, Adrien and Marinette are reluctant to let the other go

The next days passed quickly for the pair as they spent every waking moment together. Marinette took most of the next few days off, as the men who had survived their initial admittance to the clinic were all in stable condition, and there were enough nurses still to manage without her. So, she indulged. She indulged in having a companion, someone who’s presence she enjoyed, and who treasured the same things that she did. She avoided thinking what was going to happen when there was another battle, or when the army had to move, or when she might be stationed on a different front. She didn’t think about what would happen when she would have to be separated from him, and neither did he. 

They talked about home. They talked about what they had dreamed to do and be before the war. They talked about their families, and what they hoped their own would look like. They simply talked. They would walk from the house where they were staying to the clinic every day together, and then walk back together when Marinette confirmed that the nurses there were surviving without her. They stood in line for meals together. They sat beside the river together. They were not once seen apart from the other. They learned everything about each other. The good, the bad, the ugly, the embarrassing, even the mildly disgusting; but they didn’t care. They both knew that this was a relationship made for the now, one that didn’t care about whether they would end up together, because neither of them knew whether or not they would survive the week. 

Five days after the battle had ended and they had attached themselves to the other’s side, they knew they were living on borrowed time. It was common knowledge that intelligence had uncovered another German attack in the works, and the entirety of the army was in the process of uprooting themselves from the small village in the northern French countryside. They were sitting by the river again, Adrien with his legs out in front of him, his elbows draped over his knees, Marinette close beside him, her legs demurely curled underneath of her. They had already packed up their meager belongings and were simply waiting for the command to load the trucks. 

“What is the first thing you’ll do when you get back to Paris?” Marinette asked Adrien, reaching over to braid a piece of his much longer than regulation hair.

“I’m going to stop at my favorite café. It’s right next to the Seine. They sell the best coffee in Paris, and they have the cutest little girl. She must be around 5 years old now.” He paused, looking out over the slow-moving water of the river, “I guess I should probably check on my father too.”

Marinette gave him a quizzical look as she finished the small braid at the nape of his neck, before unraveling it shortly afterward, “What do you mean ‘check on your father?’ Haven’t you been writing him any letters?”

He sighed, a heavy sort of sigh that let her know that he often thought about the subject, “No. My father and I haven’t spoken since I moved out for college. When I was younger…” He stopped, clearly troubled. “When I was younger, my mother disappeared. We never really found out what happened to her. No body was found, no ransom note, nothing from her. She was just gone. After that, my father became very distant, like he didn’t want to have anything to do with me. Like I wasn't important.” He stopped again, this time with a finality that let Marinette know he was finished. 

She moved so that she was sitting in front of him, her knees positioned between his legs. When he looked up into her eyes, he expected to see pity, but he was genuinely surprised when he saw tears glistening in her eyes, and concern for him written on her face. She gently took his face into her hands, forcing him to keep eye contact, before she whispered, “You listen to me. You are important. You are important to your men, you are important to Nino because you saved his life, and you are important to Alya for the same reason. But most of all, you are important to me; I need you to know that.” Her facial expression shifted, and he saw the gears turn inside of her head. “When you are in Paris next, visit your café, check on your father if you feel ready; but when you need family, stop by my family’s patisserie. My parents will love you like a son, even if there’s no connection to me.” She gripped his face tighter, her expression determined, “Promise me that you will. That you won’t let yourself keep going without family. Please.”

He had no reason to promise her he would do it. They had said from the beginning that this companionship, this friendship, this dare he say relationship, was something that was for this moment only. They didn’t want to attach any strings. This, however, was most definitely a string. He hesitated for just a moment, knowing that Marinette didn’t want to give him a way to find her, same as he didn’t want to give her a way to find him. But was this really a clue to finding her? She still gave him no name, no way of finding the place, except that it was in Paris. 

Finally deciding that there was no risk in making a promise that neither of them could feasibly follow through with or monitor, he said, “Of course I will, Marinette. I promise.”

She smiled slightly, before pulling him into a tight hug. He responded immediately wrapping his arms all the way around her waist, pulling her closer. 

They sat there, simply holding each other, for quite some time. They had moved past the awkwardness of hugging each other, as the sensation of them being strangers had long worn off from their many hours spent together. Regardless of how well they had come to know each other, the intimacy of the moment surprised them, as well as the length of time for which it extended.   
Eventually, Marinette pulled away, wiping tears from her face as she rocked back onto her heels. She laughed, sounding strange after having cried, but Adrien felt a small flip-flop in his chest none-the-less. 

“I’m a mess. Look what you did to me.” She playfully slapped him on the arm for emphasis. 

He laughed, but it was so deep and so full of emotions besides humor that Marinette caught his eye again. He stared. He decided that he loved her eyes, and for a few seconds, only knew that he wanted to see them more often. He felt himself leaning in, and as much as he wanted to claim that he wasn’t in control, that it was only an impulse, he knew that it wasn’t. He gave her plenty of time to pull away, to shut him down, before he gently wrapped his arms around her again, and placed his lips on her. 

She sighed. She had seen it coming, knew what it implied, but allowed it to happen anyway. She gently responded to the kiss, reaching up to hold his face in her hands as she tried to shuffle closer to him. Adrien, however, seemed to miss all indicators of her enjoyment, because a few measly seconds into the kiss, he pulled away completely, running his hands through his hair. Not frantically though, as if he wished he hadn’t done it, but as if he was trying to give her yet another opportunity to run away. Perhaps even for himself, to try to regroup and get a grip on reality. Marinette knew that she needed to check reality too, but she felt more strongly about not checking just yet.

“Wow. I’m really sorry, Mari.” He said, not sounding very sorry at all, but wanting to say all the right things just in case she thought he should be sorry. “I probably should have asked if I could kiss you or if you…”

He didn’t get to finish, because Marinette showed him that she wanted him to kiss her in the most efficient way possible. She grabbed his shirt and kissed him again, effectively shutting him up.   
He took a shell-shocked second to respond, before taking her face in his hands and returning her kiss.  
It unfortunately didn’t last as long as either of them hoped that it would, Adrien pulling away first out of a sense of propriety. They didn’t completely separate, however, holding each other as they gave and returned gentle Eskimo kisses. 

When they finally did open their eyes and separate from their embrace, they did the only thing they really could do knowing they would probably never see each other again after that day; they pretended it never happened. They sat side by side, completely platonic, and talked about nothing in general. But their faces still held a hint of a blush, and their brains still played the sensation on repeat.

It was less than two hours from that moment when the two were placed in separate trucks, headed in separate directions. Marinette was headed towards southern France, where her nursing division was being stationed away from the front. Adrien was headed west towards Paris, to help fortify and prepare the city should German forces make it that far. 

As they were driven farther and farther apart, their thoughts echoed the other’s, 'Will I ever see them again'?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so for this fic I'm getting mixed results with my research. When Hitler and the Germans took over France, there was a sort of resistance government set up in Vichy, France. However, whether this was a part of France that Hitler didn't occupy, or just a sort of rebel force within German-occupied France is unclear. For the purposes of this fic, I've chosen to keep Vichy France completely separate from Occupied France. This gives Marinette, Nino, and Alya some buffer space where Hitler isn't there to immediately send them to concentration camps. 
> 
> Happy reading!

Marinette felt as if she was drowning. Her entire world turned upside down when she heard that France had surrendered to Hitler and the German forces. Fortunately, Alya, Nino, and herself were safe, out of harm’s way in Vichy, where the German forces had yet to breach. 

Despite Alya’s normal cool, she was beginning to fear for the welfare of herself and her husband. While they were not practicing members of the religion, Alya and Nino had deep roots in the Holy Lands, and would most definitely be taken into custody should Hitler reach them. Nino pretended nonchalance, but Marinette could see the nervousness behind his calm words. 

“I’m just saying. I think that Spain would be a much better option right now, especially since France is already surrendered to Germany for all practical purposes. We should leave now so that we have enough time with Old Man Lahiffe on crutches.” Alya’s sarcasm was lost in the desperation of her tone. 

“Old Man Lahiffe?” Nino was trying to sound offended, but his tone carried more than a hint of amusement. Classic Nino. His humor in the face of such hardships gave Marinette hope that they could pull through this, that nothing really had to change. 

“Oh, don’t act like you could keep up with me. All in favor of Spain?” Alya raised her hand high above her head, then looked between Nino and Marinette, waiting for one of them to agree with her.  
To a certain extent Marinette agreed. Spain was uninvolved as of yet and had already released a declaration stating that it intended to remain so, having its own internal issues to deal with. On the other hand, however, Marinette knew she was needed. She had already spent almost a month away from the battlefield; helping take care of Nino and recovering herself from the strain of her job. While she hated the prospects of war, and all that it entailed, Marinette was borderline eager to return to the front, to take her place among the ranks of nurses, and start making a difference again. 

A small part of her also worried for Adrien. While she had never seen him in combat, she knew that a commanding officer was not a title given lightly. She had total confidence in his ability to lead his men, but in the few days she had gotten to learn about him, she also sensed a certain recklessness about him; a willingness to place himself in the way of harm before others. Needless to say: it worried her. 

Alya was ranting again, arguing with Nino about why they should run while Nino shook his head and laughed, fully intending to agree with her, but having to put up with all of her reasoning anyway. 

“Alya,” Marinette called in a sing-song voice, plenty loud enough to be heard had the person in question been paying attention. “Alya.” She called again, a little more clipped, a little more forced. 

After attempting to call her a few more times, Marinette eventually had to physically put herself in Alya’s field of vision, shouting, “Alya! Listen to me!” 

That inevitably caught her attention.

“What?” She asked incredulously, as if she had been paying attention the whole time. 

“I’m going back.”

Alya’s gaze visibly wilted, “Why? Why don’t you come stay with Nino and I. You’ll be safe there, in Spain.”

“Technically, I haven’t agreed to go…” Nino tried to interject.

“Oh, shut up, Nino. We’re going and you know it.” Nino simply smirked up at his wife.

Marinette sighed, “You know why I have to go back Alya.”

Alya suddenly got an incredibly mischievous look on her face, “Oh, I see. This is about Adrien.” She waggled her eyebrows for emphasis. 

Marinette blushed. She had told Alya about her encounter with Adrien, being vague where propriety demanded it, and Alya was convinced that the two were soulmates. Marinette had begged her to stop making the comparison, as her heart could barely take the thought of him as it was; adding the prospect of him being her soulmate was simply too much. 

“No! Of course it’s not about Adrien!” Marinette huffed, frustrated that her face chose to respond to Alya’s teasing. Alya laughed. “I’m a nurse, Alya. I’m going to school to be a doctor. The soldiers need me, the nurses need me. I have to go back; you have to understand that.” 

Alya’s teasing look slowly faded, “I know. It’s your calling. You do you, girl.” She leaned in and hugged the bluenette, before adding, “but we all know it’s a little bit about Adrien.”  
“Alya!” 

\-------------------------------------------

A few days later, Marinette was standing on a train station platform, wishing farewell to her two best friends in the world. 

She hugged Nino first, awkwardly working around his crutches, and trying not to knock them or each other over in the process. 

Nino whispered so that Alya couldn’t hear, “Alya may be my girl, but you’re definitely my dudette, Marinette. I’m gonna miss you, bro.” 

Marinette laughed, tearing up at Nino’s heartfelt goodbye. “I’m gonna miss you too, Nino. You keep Alya out of trouble for me.” 

Nino chuckled, “I don’t think the Allied powers combined could keep my whirlwind of a wife out of trouble. But I’ll do my best.”

Marinette laughed, pausing to simply hug him, to try to convey that she loved him as the big brother she had never had, before uttering a quick “take care, Nino,” gently kissing him on the cheek, and moving on to embrace Alya. 

Alya made a sort of strangled half-sob, half laugh sound, “Girl, what am I gonna do without you? Nino’s gonna drive me crazy with all his conspiracy theories.”

“Alya, Nino’s ‘Conspiracy theories’” she placed emphasis on her words, being unable to make her trade-mark finger-quotes, “were right. Hitler is out to conquer the world.” 

Alya laughed, pulling slightly out of the hug to look Marinette in the face, and rolled her eyes, “So he had one lucky guess. Now I’ll have to endure all the ‘I told you so’s’ without you.” 

Marinette laughed, then began tearing up again as she realized their final moments were coming to a close. She pulled Alya back in for another hug. 

“Goodbye, Alya. I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Me too, girl. Me too. Give Adrien a kiss for me, okay.”

“Alya!” 

The auburn-haired girl laughed as Marinette’s face heated up once again at the mention of the blonde Commander. Nino had happened to have heard the last comment, and not-so-subtly made kissy faces in Marinette’s direction, which didn’t help her condition of mortification. 

Their time together ended with tears and laughter, taking joy in each other’s company, and simultaneously knowing that this may very well be the last time they ever see each other. Alya and Nino still ran the risk of being confined to a Jewish ghetto, and Marinette was headed towards the brunt of the battle in a few short hours. 

Marinette saw off Alya and Nino’s train, headed west towards Spain. She waved long after the couple was out of sight, and stood on the platform long after the train was gone. 

Tomorrow, she would be boarding her own train, but contrary to the one she had just witnessed leaving, hers would be headed north, towards the quote unquote “border” between Vichy France, and German-occupied France. There, the French forces were still fighting. Technically, they were now rogue forces, as the French government had officially surrendered, but no one actually considered them rogue, including the former French government. We were still fighting for our country; just not on paper. 

Of course, a not-so-small, nor silent, part of Marinette’s brain wondered if Adrien might be there. She had not heard anything regarding him since she had last seen him, but that was no surprise considering he had no way to reach her, nor her him. The only thing she could do was pray for his safety, and hope that one day they might meet each other again. 

She returned to the small apartment she had been sharing with Alya and Nino for the past month and finished organizing her meager possessions. She didn’t have many things here, as most of her belongings still remained at her parent’s house in Paris, including her sewing machine and all of her books. The only things that she had with her were her passport, a few changes of clothes, and a pair of ladybug print earrings that Nino had gotten her as a sort of gag-going away present. They were lovely, and in a sort of round-about way, they reminded her of Adrien. Making her way over to the mirror, she fastened the earrings on. 

Everything always seemed to return back to Adrien. The grass on the front lawn was the same color as his eyes. The river on the other side of town reminded her of the days they spent alongside a different shore, and the kiss that they shared. A blond-haired Nazi soldier would catch her eye and she’d immediately think of him. Even her nickname, the one she’d gained in the battle she met him, brought him to mind. Adrien. Almost everything brought her back to the man whom she had spent mere hours with, but had captured her heart and her attention beyond anything anyone else had managed. Thank goodness she had never gained a last name to fantasize about becoming her own someday. Heaven help her should she become that infatuated. 

Content with her appearance once her new earrings were firmly in place, Marinette folded the rest of her things into her suitcase and crawled into bed. It wasn’t long before the thoughts of a certain green-eyed boy lulled her peacefully off to sleep.


End file.
